A Cut above the Rest
by islashlove
Summary: Sam had picked up a bad habit to cope with the pressures of college. Today, he threw out that habit with the rubbish.


**Disclaimer: I do not own anything that is from Supernatural**

 **Warning: Mention of cutting.**

 **Story Notes: Sam had picked up a bad habit to cope with the pressures of college. Today, he threw out that habit with the rubbish.**

 **A Cut above the Rest**

 **Chapter 1: In More Ways than One**

Dean watched as Sam slowly walked up the stairs and towards the bunker's front door. The way Sammy's upper body was moving in and out, Dan could tell that Sam was sighing or at least taking deep breaths. Something had been weighing on Sammy's mind for weeks now and Dean hadn't missed it.

His normal tall standing, smiling like there is no tomorrow brother had been replaced by someone that looked like they were suffering from deep depression. The smile was gone. Sammy walked around dragging his feet on the ground and his whole body was slouched as if he just didn't give a damn anymore. Hell, Dean couldn't even get a jerk for his bitch. Something was wrong, very wrong.

Dean just hoped that Sammy wouldn't do anything stupid.

"I'm taking the rubbish out." Even Sammy's voice was flat and down.

"Okay. You...you alright, Sammy?"

"Yeah, just...there's just something on my mind, don't worry," Sammy replied as he turned and gave Dean a half-hearted smile."

Dean returned a slightly slanted smile. He prayed that Sammy wasn't lying. Even though Sam didn't know it, Dean had seen the results when things really got tough for him. He just hoped that Sammy didn't go back down that path again.

Sam closed the door behind and as soon as he heard it click into place, he quickened his steps. He needed to get this over and done with. Now! By the time he reached the spot where they dump the rubbish, his anxiety was sky rocketing, but he was determined to do this.

He needed to do this.

Feeling dizzy, Sam closed his eyes and took a few breathes to try and calm down. He felt sick to his stomach. It truly felt like the whole world was crashing down on him and there wasn't anything he could do. If Dean had known what he had been up to since college, Sam knew he would have killed him.

Swallowing down the lump, and he was sure some bile, Sam opened his eyes. Throwing the rubbish bag into the pit, he watched as it rolled down the side, settling at the bottom. Staring at the black rubbish bag, tears welled up in his eyes, as his shaking hand slipped into his pocket. When he found the pocket empty, panic started to rise again, until he put his other hand in his other pocket.

There, he felt the small object. Pulling out the box, Sam held it in his shaking hands. It seemed strange to see a big man like Sam break all because of a small box. But it wasn't the box that had a hold on Sam, it was what was inside it that pulled the strings.

Opening the box up, Sam looked at his shame. How he'd gone down this path, he never knew. Just knew that the feeling of the razor blade across his skin felt good. That...watching his blood pool and then trickle away, somehow released all the pressure he was feeling.

Inside this small box had been Sam's way to cope with the pressures of his life in college and when he returned to hunting with Dean. But as the days turned to weeks and then into years, Sam came to rely less on the box and found other ways to cope.

No longer did he have to sneak around so Dean wouldn't find out, but he still had to hide the secret from him. But he didn't mind wearing jeans all year 'round and the few scars that Dean had seen, Sam had been able to shrug them off as old injuries, which they really were, in a way.

In college, it had been his wrists and when he was with Dean, it had been his thighs, but Sam hadn't cut in months, in fact, it was closer to a year. He had only kept the kit just in case, but it looked like he didn't need it anymore. The pain he got from the fights, from having to cut himself for blood to cast a spell, had taken the need to lie on his bed or sit on a toilet seat in order to bleed his stress away.

Taking one more breath, Sam smiled as he closed the box up again and threw it as far as he could. He stood there for a few more minutes, breathing in the cool winter air. He was surprised by the feeling of the weight of the world lifting off his shoulders as the box left his fingers and flew out of sight. He was finally free.

Standing tall, Sam pulled his shoulders back, lifted his head up and as his spirit rose, so did his feet as he walked back into the bunker.

Dean looked up as Sammy walked back into the bunker. He could see the smile on Sammy's face and he looked a lot better. Seeing Sammy a lot happier, Dean smiled. He was proud of Sammy.

When he had followed Sammy out of the bunker, he was worried that he was going to do something stupid. But when he saw Sammy's cutting kit in his hand, curiosity really got Dean's attention.

He only knew what the box was because he found it when he went to get Sam some clothes one time he was in hospital. From there he found Sammy's cutting diary from college and from that point onwards, Dean kept a closer eye on him.

But seeing the change in Sammy, the moment the box had left his hand, Dean knew that his brother was going to okay. There would be days he would slip backwards, that was just normal, but at least Sammy had taken the right step in the right direction.

"I'm going for a shower," Sam's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Wha...?"

"Shower, I'm going for one," Sam said as he raised an eyebrow at Dean's confusion.

"Right, a shower. Sure! Sorry, I was miles away,"

"Jerk," Sam replied with a smile.

"Bitch," answers back.

 **The End**

 **Thank you for reading and for reviewing my story.**


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